Their Last Year at Hogwarts.
by Tickle Me Punk1
Summary: This story has just about everything. Please R/R - This is some of my best work.
1. Seventh Beginnings

Hello everyone! This is a Harry Potter story of mine, and although I've only posted a few chapters, there are LOTS more awaiting you. I've been writing while fanfcition.net has been out of action you see. So if I get some reviews I'll continue to post. I guarantee plot twists and cliffhangers. ;o)  
  
Enjoy….  
  
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"This is going to be a brilliant year! Think of all the new things we'll learn for our N.E.W.Ts!" Hermione Granger led her two best friends in from the cold rain and into the Entrance Hall of their school; Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
"Do you ever stop thinking about work?" Asked her friend, Ron Weasley as he took off his wet cloak and draped it over his shoulder.  
  
Hermione looked at him with a raised eyebrow as she removed her own overcoat. "It just so happens, Ron, that I am very determined to get as many N.E.W.Ts as possibly with the highest marks I possibly can."  
  
"No change there then." Harry Potter was Hermione's other best friend, the infamous young wizard who had defeated Voldemort as just a child.  
  
The boys stood in the Entrance Hall, waiting for Hermione who was trying to dry herself off, "Why does it always have to rain so much?" She muttered to herself.  
  
"Hurry up!" Ron moaned, "I'm starving!"  
  
"Yeah and we'll miss the Sorting if we don't get a move on!" Harry nodded.  
  
It was the first day of their last year at Hogwarts and at the start of every new school year, new students would be sorted into their appropriate houses. This was a ceremony Harry and Ron had only managed to watch twice throughout their time at the school due to them getting into trouble every time.  
  
But things had changed throughout the six years they had been at Hogwarts. For a start they were all around the age of seventeen and this brought on height and weight differences to when they were merely eleven.  
  
Harry was now a young man of average height, his hair still as untidy as ever and his eyes still their brilliant green. But, like Ron, his thoughts no longer consisted of just Quidditch, homework and ways to defeat the Dark Lord. Both of the guys now enjoyed thinking about girls and sex. Both had also had numerous girlfriends, but as for now, they were once again single.  
  
Ron still had his mop of flaming red hair and freckly face. But his old, lanky stature seemed to have doubled since their first year and he was a tall, thin and slightly burly seventeen-year-old with a long, friendly face and icy colored eyes.  
  
Hermione was the member of the trio who had gone through more changes than both her friends put together. She was no longer small, swotty Hermione with the bushy hair and buckteeth. She had reached puberty and so her body had gone through many changes. The main ones, like her male best friends, being height and weight. She was now considerably taller than Harry was, even though she was no way near Ron's magnificent stature. Her legs were the reason for this sudden outburst in height, for they had almost doubled their length and were long and slender. And, unlike in her early years at Hogwarts, Hermione had decided to start hitching up her skirt in an attempt to show these off.  
  
All her old puppy fat had been drained from her stomach and thighs and instead settled in a new home around her chest, which she also liked to display by unbuttoning a few extra holes in her school shirt.  
  
Hermione brushed back her hair in an attempt to stop in clinging to her wet face. Her hair had also seemed to experienced a change and was no longer bushy and out of control. Hermione had found an excellent product in her fourth year called Sleekeazy's, a gel she used to slack back her untamed hair for the Yule Ball. Since then she had used it regularly to make her hair shiny and wavy, as opposed to a tangled wave of brown knots clinging to the back of her neck. And, after the end of fifth year she discovered that her hair had naturally started to fall normally across her back, and that she hardly needed the gel anymore. She had decided to keep a few of her curls in front of her ears and they resembled beautiful ringlets instead of her old fuzzy coils.  
  
"Come on Hermione! I'm starving!" Ron moaned for the second time.  
  
She finished brushing the hair out of her face and picked up her cloak, "Okay, okay! Jesus, you're so impatient!"  
  
"I wouldn't let Weasel eat any more if I were you," Hissed a drawling voice behind them, "He's already too big. If you're careful he'll end up like that half giant you call a friend. He's no better than the filthy grounds he tends."  
  
Hermione saw Draco Malfoy approach from behind Harry, his insanely blond hair glinting silver in the flame of the Great Hall's torches and his milk pale skin curve into a malevolent smile. They all turned to face him.  
  
"Oh fuck off Malfoy." Ron mumbled lazily, "We all know Hagrid could beat the living shit out of you without breaking a sweat."  
  
Malfoy smirked, "And cost Dumbledore's trust? I think not. He's got his head further up that Mudblood lovers ass than you three put together, if that's possible."  
  
Hermione felt herself getting hot. But she wasn't sure if was only anger. In the last few months, whenever she'd laid eyes on Draco she always felt her face heating up.  
  
"Just buzz off Malfoy, we're tired, hungry and wet. Leave us alone."  
  
She'd never been very good at insulting people. Hermione didn't believe in swearing or cursing and liked her world to be peaceful. So, as you can imagine, she wasn't really a match for Malfoy, who had been brought up around injustice and cruelties.  
  
"Wet…" Malfoy lingered and looked Hermione up and down, his eyes resting on the curves of her figure and watched small drops of rain trickle down her long legs, "Yes, I can see that."  
  
His sinister grin spread further across his face but it soon vanished when a fist came into contact with the collar of his robes.  
  
Ron grabbed for him and pushed him against the wall, Draco's feet were dangling helplessly a few inches from the floor.  
  
"Ron don't!" Hermione called, but he wasn't listening.  
  
"Don't you look at her like that you piece of shit." Ron spat, "Don't you ever look at her again otherwise I'll hunt you down and kill you like the vermin you are."  
  
Malfoy's endless self-confidence wavered for second but he looked at Ron with nothing short of hatred, "Listen Weasley, I'll look at whoever I want however the fuck I want. She's not yours, you don't own her." He looked past Ron's shoulders to Hermione, who was standing with her hands clasped together in worry.  
  
He turned back to Ron and whispered so that only he could hear, "She's not yours, no matter how much you want her to be."  
  
Ron looked at him in fury, "Shut the fuck up Malfoy. Stop talking shit or I'll beat the crap out of you."  
  
Malfoy grinned, knowing he had touched a nerve, "On the first day back? Deary me…" And without warning his wrenched himself free of Ron's grip. "Now, if you three will excuse me, I'd like to go watch the sorting ceremony."  
  
Malfoy walked out of the Entrance Hall and into the Great Hall, where the ceremony and feast were already taking place.  
  
"I was kind of hoping Draco had forgotten about us over the holidays… you know, it being the last year and all. I would have liked it if he'd decided to leave us alone." Harry watched the back of Draco vanish through the large doors.  
  
"You just have to ignore him." Said Hermione as she headed for the same door; "They always get bored if you ignore them."  
  
Ron shook his red face and followed her, "No they don't. They've been pestering us for sixth years, what makes you think they'd stop now." He kicked the leg of a table and added, "Stupid fucking Slytherins."  
  
Hermione looked at him, "Ron…"  
  
He shook his head violently and held his hand up to her face, "Leave it Hermione, I'm not in the mood for a lecture on swearing."  
  
Hermione looked hurt and was just about to argue back when Harry opened the doors of the Great Hall and revealed the sight their hungry stomachs had been waiting for. The four house tables were laden with delicious looking plates of chicken, potatoes, beef, fish and other vegetables and dishes dotted around in-between large ladling jugs of gravy.  
  
"We've missed the sorting hat!" Said Harry in a disappointed tone as he watched Professor McGonagall carry a ragged, patched hat through a small door at the back of the Hall.  
  
"Who gives a shit!" Yelped Ron, his eyes eagerly surveying the food on the Gryffindor table, "Let's eat!"  
  
The three of them took their places at the very end of the table and began to scoff their faces with everything they could reach, seeming to forget Malfoy and his infuriating smirk. 


	2. Bad Moods

Ron was slurping up a particularly long piece of spaghetti when he noticed McGonagall towering over him, "Yes miss?" He asked after finally gulping it down.  
  
"Late again Mr. Weasley?" She questioned, and then she looked at Harry, "You too? What was it this time – Ronald saw a spider on the doors of the castle grounds and wouldn't enter until it had been removed from his sight? Or did Mr. Potter forget his Invisibility Cloak and had to rush home because the thought of not breaking curfew in his last year was a thought too unbearable to dwell on?"  
  
Hermione snorted into her soup with a fit of giggles but Professor McGonagall ignored her, "Here are your timetables for this year, and see that you aren't late for your first lesson."  
  
Harry, Hermione and Ron each took a timetable, said thanks and put their heads down until McGonagall had gone back up to the Professor's table.  
  
"I can't believe it!" Ron cried, "Hermione was late too but old Minerva didn't seem to notice that!"  
  
"That's because she loves Hermione." Said Harry simply, eyeing his new timetable, "What have we got tomorrow morning then?"  
  
Hermione ignored her best friends' comments about her and looked at her own copy, then let out a large groan, "You're kidding? No wonder Professor McGonagall told us not to be late."  
  
"Potions?!" Ron yelped, "Fucking great. Potions first thing… and what a surprise, we've got the Slytherins too."  
  
Hermione looked and sure enough, Ron was right, they had double Potions first thing in the morning with the Slytherins. She glanced over at the Slytherin table and saw Draco Malfoy idly talking to his loyal followers, Crabbe and Goyle. Pansy Parkinson had her arm around his shoulder and she was playing with the back of his hair.  
  
Draco looked up and noticed Hermione staring at him, he gave a wink and allowed his tongue to spread across the surface of his teeth. Hermione looked down instinctively, her cheeks beginning to burn.  
  
"Who was that you were staring at?" Pansy asked in concern, her long fingernails brushing the side of Draco's face softly.  
  
"No one." Said Malfoy, "I was just playing with a Gryffindor."  
  
Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy all laughed appreciatively but Draco knew he wasn't just playing. He continued to stare while Pansy went back to her food… He liked what he saw.  
  
Hermione's long, wavy hair spread down her back and chest, falling like a waterfall. He eyed her face carefully, watching her chocolate eyes dart from Harry to Ron and her face spread into a smile at something one of them must have said. Draco felt himself heat up as he allowed his eyes to travel further down, past her bare collarbone and into the regions of her school shirt. It was open slightly until there was quiet cleavage showing as she bent over her soup and swallowed another spoonful. Some of it missed her mouth and dribbled across her chin, which she quickly cleaned off with a napkin.  
  
Draco sighed lustily, 'Someone's against me,' he thought, 'They must be, if they are to make one of my enemies like that.'  
  
He tried to cool himself down by concentrating on his food but Pansy was all the while trying to touch him underneath the table and it was more than he could bare.  
  
"Stop it." He muttered sternly to the gossipy Slytherin girl on his left.  
  
"You know you don't want me to do that." Pansy looked at him, her eyes full of wanting as she slid her hand into his trousers.  
  
He put his own arm beneath the table and grabbed her wrist, bringing it back up, "Stop it." He repeated dangerously.  
  
"Why Drakie?" She looked like a House Elf that had just been told off, "Don't you want me?" She pressed closer and starting darting her tongue in and out of Draco's ear.  
  
The truth was that Draco would rather sleep with a Grindylow than some skinny Slytherin slut, but he didn't let on, "Not in the middle of the Great Hall."  
  
But Pansy wouldn't take no for an answer, "Just let me do everything. You relax."  
  
Draco grew infuriated, "Leave me alone!" He yelled, positively pushing Pansy away from him. He looked up and saw several eyes on him, including that of Hermione.  
  
Pansy stopped, sulking at the side of him until the end of the feast, her already large bottom lip quivering and her beady eyes full of tears.  
  
But Draco didn't care. He had never wanted to be betrothed to Pansy Parkinson. She was always sleeping around behind his back and, in Draco's opinion, she was shit in bed anyway.  
  
After the feast he headed straight for his dormitory to get some sleep. Fortunately none of his gloating followers walked with him so he could be alone with his thoughts – which, funnily enough, consisted of only Hermione. 


	3. Stream of Thoughts

Hermione was lying in her large, four poster bed with her eyes wide open and she stared at the scarlet canopy above her in deep thought.  
  
What was Malfoy doing in the Great Hall, winking at her like that? She remembered the look in his eyes as he had stared at her in the Entrance Hall.  
  
"Wet… Yes I can see that." – They had been his exact words as he had looked at her long legs dripping with rainwater.  
  
Hermione turned over in bed in hopes of getting to sleep, but she knew it was impossible. It was about this time that she'd start fantasying about Mr. Malfoy and his sexy ways.  
  
She downright hated the guy for all he'd done to her friends. In the second year he'd done nothing short of threatened her with Mudblood comments and claimed that the heir of Slytherin would come to kill her. In the third year he'd tried to get her good friend Hagrid fired and a Hippogriff murdered. Then in the fourth year he'd tried again but also attempted to get Harry thrown out of the Triwizard Tournament and ruin all three of their social lives by getting the reporter, Rita Skeeter, to write rubbish about them in the Daily Prophet.  
  
Yes, she knew he was a complete moron and a complete evil piece of work. But the problem was he was just too sexy. Malfoy had a dark streak and though while it had almost ruined her life on several occasions, it still made him gorgeously attractive.  
  
She'd dated a couple of Gryffindor boys before, but they were too… good for her somehow. She wanted someone who'd treat her badly, someone who'd give her and evil grin before swooping down on her and basically fuck her brains out.  
  
She'd had sex before, with Viktor Krum, the International Quidditch player. He'd had a big interest in Hermione ever since his school, Durmstrang Academy, had come over for the Triwizard Tournament in the fourth year. Since then she'd been over to Bulgaria twice during the Summer Holidays and had sex numerous times with Viktor. But she'd broke off with him last year because she couldn't stand to be attached to someone who was thousands of miles away while there were plenty of worthy guys at her own school.  
  
But now she hadn't dated someone for about eleven months and for lack of a better phrase, she was desperate to get laid. Who could she turn to? Definitely not Harry. One of the most generous, bravest and downright nicest guys she'd ever met. And that was exactly what was wrong with him. Passion to him was probably a kiss on the cheek and a pat on the head.  
  
Hermione's mind drifted to her other best friend, Ron Weasley. She stared up at the blackness that had now swallowed any visible signs of her canopy over her bed and she saw his gentle, kind face smile back at her. Ron would definitely be better than Harry would. She could imagine Ron being a good kisser… but still, there was something so nice about him that kept him from being sexy.  
  
Hermione sat up, still wrapped in her covers, and rested her chin on her knees. She knew who she wanted.  
  
Malfoy.  
  
She hated the thought of fraternizing with the enemy; hanging around with Malfoy was something she'd leave to her most hated, thanks. But still… when she saw Pansy Parkinson's fingers creep around his milky complexion and her eyes dart to his lips in hope of the inevitable, Hermione felt so mad she wanted to rip Parkinson's eyes from their sockets with a blunt spoon.  
  
All she wanted was one night alone with him, just to let him fuck her brains out then they could be done and over with. But, of course she knew that would never happen. Draco wouldn't even look at a "Filthy Mudblood" twice, forget sleep with one. And even if she did manage to sleep with him, did she really think he was going to keep quiet about it.  
  
What if Ron found out? It'd destroy him.  
  
No. She'd just have to suppress these urges until they passed… and as she finally fell asleep, she found herself praying to God that they would. 


	4. Confidence and Concern

Draco had intended on finishing his Divination homework on the night of his arrival at Hogwarts, but as he had sat by the fire, forcing his blue eyes to concentrate on star charts and pictures of palms, his mind had wondered. All he could think about was Hermione, an empty desk, and a bucket of ice cubes.  
  
He'd cursed himself everytime he'd realized he was fantasizing and tried, once again, to work out what that night's planet alignments meant for Leo's. But he struggled and had finally worked himself into such a fury that he flung 'Unfogging The Future' into the fire nearby.  
  
After a hard nights sleep he arose from his green bedspread and he stared at himself in the dormitory mirror. His usually pale and clear complexion looked almost ghostly because of some dark rings around his cold eyes. His white-blond hair was standing up at odd angles but he used his wand to brush them back into the usual style.  
  
"Fentostimos." He muttered lazily and his hair swept back off his face.  
  
Even though his appearance made him look tired and worn, he was, in fact, infuriated. Not with himself, for Malfoy's were never wrong – he had been taught that from his father. But at Hermione Granger, the stupid little Mudblood witch.  
  
How dare a stupid little Gryffindor Mudblood stop him from getting any sleep? How dare she creep into his every thought and pollute them with her flawless figure and suggestive expressions. It wasn't Draco's fault that many of his woken and indeed sleeping thoughts pictured himself splayed over her while she wriggled in very few clothes underneath him. No… it wasn't his fault at all, it was hers.  
  
He was convinced that some sort of spell had been cast over him, or a potion had been secretly added to his pumpkin juice. Malfoy's did not lust after Mudbloods, no matter how attractive they may be. And let's face it, Draco admitted to himself, Hermione was attractive. Her endless legs seemed to go on forever until they finally came to a stop at her ass which, he thought, was framed so beautifully in those tight school skirts of hers. He could just imagine reaching out and touching…  
  
Realizing that he was fantasizing again, he slapped one of his cheeks and cursed himself. He looked into the mirror again and gave his ever-famous sneer, hoping to see the usual, ruthless Malfoy he had grown to love look back at him. Sure enough, not even slight stubble and dark patches around his eyes could stop him looking as cruelly handsome as normal. And he had to look his best this morning because he had potions.  
  
He reached the door to Professor Snapes' dungeon and saw Hermione, Harry and Ron already waiting outside with a few more choice losers.  
  
Hermione darted a sideways look as he strode over, but chose to ignore him as she talked to Ron.  
  
Malfoy was not used to being ignored.  
  
"Hello there, Hermione." He hissed as he slithered to the side of Hermione and put his head next to hers, standing directly behind her and allowing her hair to cushion his cheek. He looked at Ron, "Hello Weasel."  
  
Hermione stood perfectly still. She was somehow scared of Draco standing to close to her, his body touching the back of hers… but yet she liked the feeling.  
  
Ron looked at him, "What do you want you piece of shit?"  
  
Draco took in the smell of Hermione's hair; it was intoxicating, "I see we're still not over my attitude towards Hermione that you so wrongly read yesterday." He smirked, an evil tinge dancing on the upturned corners of his mouth.  
  
"I didn't read anything wrong," Said Ron angrily, "I know what you were thinking."  
  
Draco hissed, "You're sorely mistaken if you think I'd look at a Mudblood like her." He stepped back and turned to Hermione, who flinched from his cold gaze.  
  
To anyone watching it would have looked like she was scared, but what she really felt was much worse. She was angry with Malfoy for being such a disgusting pig, yet, being easily the most attractive guy in the entire castle… and not letting her enjoy any of his sexiness.  
  
"Don't call her that." Ron moved forward threateningly.  
  
"Or what?" Asked Draco softly, but he knew this was a mistake from the moment he said it. Ron was a good foot taller than him and was also fairly stronger.  
  
Sure enough, Ron moved forward again, "You know what, Malfoy."  
  
Hermione was sure she could see a spot of concern on Malfoy's face but it soon disappeared when he saw what was behind Ron.  
  
"Threatening my students again, Mr. Weasley?"  
  
Ron turned to see Professor Snape gazing coldly back at him with dead black eyes. The fortunate thing about Ron being so tall was that he was eye level with most Professors, inclduing Snape.  
  
"I was provoked, sir." Said Ron firmly.  
  
Snape's black eyes glittered under the dungeon lights and he turned to Malfoy with a questioning look.  
  
"A lie sir," Said Malfoy innocently – a look which didn't suit his thin eyes or pointed face – "Ron here just decided to attack me."  
  
Snape glanced to Ron then back to Draco with sudden quirks of his pitch colored eyes, "Are you alright, Draco?"  
  
"I think so." Said Malfoy, rubbing his robes for any signs of dust.  
  
Ron turned up his nose in obvious hatred of the Slytherin and the Head of House, but Snape was already looking back at him.  
  
"Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for complete lack of self control in the corridors of my dungeon."  
  
To the sound of many groans from Gryffindor students, Snape opened the door to his dungeon set classroom and allowed some of his pupils (mostly Slytherin) to get through before he followed, leaving all the Gryffindors outside to follow suit.  
  
"Today we will be testing your truth potions. The less able of you will be unsuccessful-" At this point Snape jerked his head round to look at poor Neville Longbottom, who fell completely to pieces in Potions. "If your truth potion does fail, it shall be nothing more than a weak poison." He continued, "Those who do succeed will receive ten points for their house. Those who fail-" He looked again at Neville, "Will loose ten. Now get to work."  
  
Hermione scrambled around in her bag for the necessary ingredients while Harry went to fetch the potions they had left to brew before the holidays.  
  
"Are you okay?" Ron tried to meet Hermione's eyes as she looked around the pits of her rucksack.  
  
She looked up, "Erm, yeah… why shouldn't I be?"  
  
"Well…Malfoy." Said Ron simply, his teeth clenched together as if the very mention of the word was making his blood boil, "Is he getting to you?"  
  
Hermione laughed, "Ron I'm fine."  
  
"But… the stuff he's been saying about you… about what you look like. Haven't you noticed?"  
  
Hermione felt her cheeks starting to tinge pink but she tried to suppress them, "It's just Malfoy, Ron."  
  
"Exactly!" Exclaimed Ron, a little too loud. He hushed his voice into a whisper, "What if he… tries something?"  
  
Hermione couldn't stop the thought of Malfoy pushing her against a wall in flaming passion but she dismissed it, "Then I'd report something and he'd be arrested."  
  
Well, that was a downright lie. She would do nothing of the sort. She knew she would encourage Draco as far as possible and enjoy every minute of it.  
  
She then noticed that Ron was speaking again so she tried to discard the image of herself and Malfoy and listened.  
  
"Are you even listening to me?" Ron questioned with his eyebrow raised and his lips tinned tightly across his face in frustration.  
  
Hermione smiled, she'd always loved that expression of his, he looked just adorable and she had to fight the urge to laugh, "Yes I was listening." She lied again.  
  
"Then what did I say?" He asked sternly.  
  
Hermione dismissed him with an idle wave of her hand as she went back to looking in her bag, "You sound like my mum."  
  
Suddenly Harry turned up with three containers of their old potions; "Here you go guys!"  
  
"Thanks Harry." Hermione took her watery looking potion and drained the container so there was a substance that looked like thin glue wallowing around in her cauldron.  
  
"What's up with you, Ron?" Harry asked as he held out another jug of transparent potion.  
  
"Nothing." Said Ron hotly as he grabbed the container off Harry without thanks and took it off to his own cauldron. 


End file.
